


All Of These Roads (Led Back To You)

by DarkAlpha67



Series: STORIES [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: FBI Agent! Derek, FBI INTERN!Stiles, Latenight talks, M/M, Mention of full shift! Derek, Mocking, Past Feelings, Reminising, Spoilers to s6e011, hints of stiles stilinski/Derek hale, nervous stiles, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: It's Stiles first day at Quantico and he was gonna kick it! Or so he thought, until He walked in and fucked up Stiles plan to get away from Beacon Hills.*A prompt request.





	All Of These Roads (Led Back To You)

**Author's Note:**

> Right! First prompt fic.
> 
> njflkf asked for:
> 
> Derek/Stiles-  
> Stiles starts FBI training.  
> The shock is NOT that Derek is wanted by the FBI(as on the show)  
> It is that Derek is one of the Trainers there. IS FBI himself...  
> Derek had never actually told them what he did all the years away from Beacon Hills---between the Hale fire and Laura's death. And after he left in Mexico.  
> The Sheriff knew. Since he did the back ground check when Derek was taken in after Laura;s body was found.
> 
> OR? Derek had finished all the college, internships, etc? And is now there to finish getting his credentials and badge himself.  
> The "spit water" scene was Derek walking into the classroom! In a suit!
> 
> * 
> 
> Turned out fluffier than originally intended.

Stiles took the steps proudly. He felt his heart pound, his body buzz with almost uncontainable joy and excitement.

He made it.

He actually made it…

As he entered the building, the bustling voices of other excited inters filled him with trepidation. The smug, proud smile that had been plastered on his face since he entered the building, stretched as he looked around the sterile building, its white, high walls with a firm and strong black and white design looked intimidating at first glance but after years of fighting the supernatural, this place would be a piece of cake.

A massive ass piece of cake… that was giving him a stomach ache.

Shit!

People piled in, their voices dying out as they all enter the room they were told to go to.

Fumbling a little and trying not to trip over his own feet he rushed after the crowd, coming to a halt just inches from colliding with a woman before him.

She turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed.

Nodding, Stiles gave her a crooked smirk. “Hi.”

With nothing but a nod in return from her, Stiles made his way into the room, taking in the brightness of four walled space, the two rows of desk all facing the front, reminding him of BH high school. Behind, in the center, against the outside view was an investigation board.

As Stiles looked at it, that small hint of longing ignited within but with a shake of the head he shoved it down.

He left for a reason. And he was here for another reason.

Eagerly walking forward Stiles picked the second last desk, taking the seat on the right side, in the center aisle where he was free to move around, to tilt all his wanted and see more of the white board before them.

The woman he had almost bumped into takes the seat next to him, giving him a nod once more.

Feeling jittery, Stiles started moving around, anything to keep his hands busy. Pulling out pens and pencils, and his metal water vacuum flask, because nothing can cool you down like nice ice cold water. His foot was already starting to tap against the floor as he waited, so he needed something to calm him down.

His mind flashed to Scott back home. He hoped his best friend got the message and did exactly what Stiles said. He hoped they all did…

The lights up front dimmed and then the door opened.

His mouth dried up and Stiles, fumbling around to try and calm his nerves, reached for his flask and took a long gulp, the water cool against his blown up cheeks.

Stiles straightened up, moving the water around his mouth as his eyes eagerly fell on the Agent that would be conducting the lesson. He too was dressed in a suit, with a jacket that clung to his body, his shoulder broad and strong. As Stiles looked at him, he took in the gelled back hair and the hints of a beard.

Ten bucks this guys glared at his co-workers and spend like an hour in the bathroom.

The Agent stepped further in and the light from the windows struck his face.

_Holy shit!_

Water burst out from Stiles mouth, spewing all over the woman before him.

The man looked up.

Stiles slapped a hand over his mouth in a useless attempt to keep the water in his mouth.

The man froze and looked over at him.

His green-grey eyes widened in shock and his mouth parted just a bit, giving Stiles a peek of the tips of his bunny teeth.

Every head turned toward him.

“I’m sorry! Sorry.” He said desperately to the woman still wiping at her shirt, his voice coming out a little shaky. “I- I- uh—“

Stepping further in the room, the guy Stiles never in a million years thought he would see ever again, glared at him.

That familiar action made his heart flip and caused his insides to flutter.

What the fuck was he doing here?

This was not the sort of place Stiles had ever thought he’d be in. Sure, during those odd days, and nights… and free time, he had always pictured him living somewhere on an Island… away from people and surrounded by trees and animals that treated him like their king.

Stiles, with eyes as wide as saucers opened his mouth but a subtle tilt of the head stopped any words from leaving him.

And so he watched with his mouth agape like an idiot as that unbelievable asshole closed the door behind him and turned to address the class, his eyes dancing over them all, flickering completely over Stiles, as he made his way to the front and center of the room.

Wow, for months he had to deal with the eye rolling, the exasperated stares and the ‘please shut the fuck up’ glares and now, it’s like Stiles’ was part of the crowd?

“There are three words on the official FBI seal.” He said as greeting, his voice deep, and his eyes sharp. “Loyalty. Courage. Integrity.”

He gazed out at them all, and Stiles noticed the way all the interns shifted a little whenever his steely green eyes fell upon them.

“These are the qualities the bureau expects from all our interns. The qualities we demand that you learn these six months.”

He stared at Stiles then (Yeah, that’s right! I’m right here, big guy). “Loyalty. Courage. Integrity.”

Regarding the room once more he said, “My name is Agent Derek Hale and welcome.”

The projector behind them flashed and images after images followed, and although Stiles knew he should have diverted his eyes the moment the projector flashed on, he couldn’t. As if in a hypnotized state, Stiles’ eyes never left Derek…

His heart pounded painfully against his chest, wanting to break free. It was like he was that hormonal sixteen year old kid again, who couldn’t control his heart and his mind.

Questions swirled in his head, hindering any messages his brain might be sending to his motor neurons.

“You’ll join actual federal agents as we investigate everything from white collar crimes to terrorist—“

“Domestic?” The words left his mouth, his body bursting to life in the most inopportune time like it always did around the brooding werewolf.

Derek paused, his eyes flashing toward Stiles. “Yes. Exactly.”

Stiles nodded, his fingers fluttering around his desk. With his nerves on end, Stiles moves his pencils, taking one into his hands, rolling it over and over between his fingers.

He swallowed down the words that threaten to implode from his mouth as Derek continues on.

“We’re also part of task force to catch kidnappers, murders—"

“Serial Killers?” Stiles cut him off again.

With clenched teeth and a forced professional expression, Derek Hale turned to him, nodding his head. A look passed between the two and it, thankfully, went unnoticed by the other people in the room.

His mind flashed to their first meeting, to their first bad guy.

Peter Hale… Beacon Hill’s very own psychotic murdering serial killer.

“Yes. Even, serial killers.”

Stiles nodded and reached out to open his file, ignoring the slight tremble in his hands. “Sorry, I’ll—I’ll raise my hand from now… on. You can keep going… sir.” He added awkwardly.

Nodding stiffly, Derek turned his eyes back to projector behind him.

Except Stiles didn’t ask him anything else after that.

He wanted to. Dear God, he wanted to demand answers to so many questions that he had swimming around in his head. But… he kept his mouth shut, going so far as chewing on his bottom lip and nodding way too much to be considered normal numbers of nodding—if that was a thing but hey, awesome alliteration. Though he should probably stop, given that the woman beside him kept giving him annoying side glances.

With his mouth firmly clamped shut, he waited.

He listened and waited.

He jotted down the required information, listening as Derek’s voice echoed through silent room, spiking his heart beat and causing the werewolf before him to cast him frequent glances.

Like fresh water in the scorching hot desert, Derek finally called the class to an end.

All the other interns stood up, packing their stuff away, their exuberant voices intermingling as they spoke to the people beside them and unlike the moment he sat down, Stiles took his sweet time to pack away.

He didn’t notice the stares some were giving him, too busy trying to get his questions in order, question he was going to get answers to.

Oh, he was going to get those answers even if he had to force it out of Derek with his special blend of annoyance and persistence.

As the last of the few filed out and Stiles had successfully taken his time so that he only had his folder to put in, he waited for the last intern to leave and fixed his stare upon a bored looking Derek, before making his way over to his former pack member, tossing his strap over his shoulder.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?” He had barely reached the front before the words left his mouth.

Derek sighed. “It’s good to see you too, Stiles.”

His right eye squinted at Derek. “Are you for real? Maybe you misunderstood me…” He leaned forward, whispering harshly. “What the fuck are you doing here? How long have you been in the FBI? Why didn’t you tell me? Where is Braeden? And again, what the _heck_ are you doing here?”

“You expect me to get all of that from your previous one-liner question?”

“ _Derek_.”

With that heavy signature sigh of his, Derek reached for a piece of paper. Stiles watched, his lips in a small ‘o’, ready to ask Derek what he was doing when the werewolf started scribbling something down, folding it and then handed it to Stiles.

“I can’t answer any of your questions now but meet me at this place at 8 tonight and then you can word-vomit all you want.”

Stiles slowly took the piece of paper, flipping it open to check that there was indeed a meeting place, just outside the FBI building he was staying in.

He looked up to Derek.

“Now, get to class.” The werewolf interrupted him, nodding to the door.

With every fiber in his being wanting answers to his questions, he forced his body to move away, casting one last suspicious glance to him, letting Derek know he was onto him as he exited the building.

 

 

                                             ////////////

 

 

His hands were shaking and his wished he brought his water bottle with given that his throat was sandpaper dry.

As he walked out the building, mindful not to be seen, he glanced down at the piece of paper once more. Even though he had the freaking place memorized, he was still a little paranoid that he might miss it.

Stuffing his hands into his new deep red hoodie (a gift from Scott), he made his way to the small bench that stood a good distance from the building.

The night was a little misty and there was a thin layer of grey cloaking the nearby grass area by the pavement. The white nose of his chucks was already a little wet and he could feel the chilly night breeze through his jeans.

As he drew nearer to the location, he saw the hunched over form of Derek. With his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped between his legs and his head and body leaned forward, he looked a little suspicious.

Derek seemed to have heard him because his head snapped up and over to Stiles when the young human came into view.

“Hey.” Derek greeted him, his voice deeper than usual.

Stiles bit down on his tongue, lodging a question in his throat. He came up to Derek and took a seat beside him on the hard, uncomfortable bench.

The older man leaned forward and reached down. When he straightened up, there was a long silver flask in his hands. “Hot Chocolate?”

“Seriously?” Stiles asked and then grabbed the warm drink from Derek’s raised hands.

He unscrewed it and steam wafted up, warming the tip of his nose. With a soft, sweet sigh Stiles used to top as a cup and poured himself some, drowning it instantly.

The warm liquid ran though his body, heating every chilling spot. With a smile now growing on his face Stiles said to Derek, “you’re a little forgiven.”

Rolling his eyes, Derek took the flask. “Good to know.” He took a sip for himself.

The silence that fell between then was a tense and uncomfortable one.

With so many questioned needing to be voiced, Stiles had no idea where to start. He wanted to know everything from the moment Derek left Beacon Hills to everything that happened to him since. He wanted to know how the whole evolving thing went for Derek. He wanted to know everything!

“So…” He sounded out. “The FBI, huh?”

Closing his eyes in mortification, Stiles let out a groan as a small, deep chuckled reached his ears which only piled on to it, because really? He was 19! He was not that same spastic kid… Okay, he was but he had gotten more confident. Living in the world he chose to live in, would do that to a person… Also, Malia helped him a little with that.

But still, even after all those months and character development, Derek always brought out the old Stiles.

Peaking open an eye, he saw Derek sitting there with a little grin on his face as he stared at Stiles. “Nice to see you’re still a little like the Stiles I knew.”

He snorted. “The ‘Stiles’ you knew?”

Slowly, the grin fell from Derek’s face.

The light mood vanished in the shivery breeze and Stiles, not wanting to fall into another weird and uncomfortable silence, turned around completely to face Derek, bring his leg up to set it sideways on the bench.

“So… Spill, dude. How did the Derek Hale, I-suffer-from-emotional-constipation, get into the FBI?”

His lips tugged. “I was already in the program but—“

“Wait what?” Stiles interrupted.

“You didn’t know? I thought you knew everything about everything.” Derek joked.

A grin broke out of his face and with all his efforts, he managed to narrow his eyes. “Don’t make it sound creepy.”

“Like you knowing who I am and how old I was the first day we laid eyes on each other?” Derek mocked him.

“My dad talked about you... once”

“Don’t you mean you overheard your dad talking about me…once?”

Stiles reached over and punched Derek’s shoulder as lightly as he could. “Dude, stop avoiding the subject.”

The older man took another calm sip of the flask and Stiles noted how relaxed his shoulders were. One of the many things that stood out to Stiles was Derek’s brooding shoulders and the stiff, over powering way, he held himself. It took a few days for Stiles to realize that Derek’s posture wasn’t him trying to assert his dominance—or well it wasn’t the whole reason--- but it was due to his over vigilance.

“I wasn’t avoiding it.” Derek told him in a condescending tone. “I was talking and then like old times you interrupted me.”

“Sorry.” Stiles raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll shut up.”’

“And raise your hand if you have a question?”

The younger man narrowed his eyes and swallowed down the need to growl at Derek just to get back at him.

Slowly, Derek ran his tongue over his lips, momentarily short circuiting Stiles’ brain, before he answered. “As I was saying, I was in the program and then had to leave because of Laura,” he waved his hands around, “you know what happened after that. Anyway… after all that shit I went through, and after some traveling with Braeden, I decided to go back to trying to build the life I wanted for myself.”

The corner of Stiles’ lips tug up. “You wanted to be in the FBI?”

“Not the FBI specifically but… I wanted to save the world back when I was a kid. Be more than just a werewolf.” Derek said, his voice dropping as he looked to the ground. “And after that thing with Kate… I needed something to give me purpose. So when I got back and I got some help, I went back to the FBI. This is the first time I am participating in the internship.”

“No shit?” Stiles asked in shock because what the fuck were the odds?

“Yeah, I know.” Derek nodded, lifting his eyebrows in agreement.

He turned his head and looked over to Stiles, his green eyes soft and light and Stiles felt his heart thud against his rib-cage. Derek glanced down to his chest and then met his eye once more but neither said anything.

Desperate to overshadow what just occurred, Stiles asked. “And the whole wolf thing? How’s that? I mean, don’t you have to like shift and stuff? How do you do that with without the privacy the preserve allowed?”

Derek handed Stiles the Hot Cocoa and he took it gratefully.

“There is a guy, the current commander at the nearby base, he’s a werewolf too. He allows me access to the Marine Base, as long as I look after myself and watch where I go… And not get caught.”

“And the whole turning into a four legged wolf? Like do you go into heat now? Do you have this uncontrollable desire to run after a flying object, like let say… a ball?”

Thick dark brows pulled together, screaming judgement. “I’m still _me_ , Stiles!”

He opened his mouth to defend himself and couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse so in the end he just have a conceding shrug. “It’s just a question. You left before I could ask or say anything to you.”

The bitterness seeped through along with his words and Stiles winced, biting down on his tongue. He didn’t want to go there, because it was selfish of him to. He was happy, fuck he was ecstatic when he realised Derek was leaving but that didn’t stop his mind from going back to the werewolf and from his heart wishing Derek was there with them through all the bullshit he had to go through.

Once more, an icy silence fell over them and this time, Stiles let it. He had one thing to say, he had one thing he wanted to scream at Derek but so much time had passed.

They were different and even though Stiles’… _something_ for Derek hadn’t changed or even lessened, he wasn’t confident enough anymore to speak those words.

And then, Derek’s voice reached his ears, breezing along with the chilly wind, right through him. “I missed you.”

The words sunk into him, and warmth ran through his every vein and his heart spiked. His whiskey eyes, bright from the feelings rushing through him, looked over and locked with Derek’s. They looked both hesitant yet confident as they stared back at Stiles.

A smile formed on his lips and Stiles nodded. “Yeah… I kinda missed you too.”

“Only kinda?” Derek asked him in a light tone but even the light tone couldn’t dismiss the heavy and tense air building between them as neither looked away.

“Well, I definitely didn’t miss your pessimistic ass but…” His smile grew. “I’m gonna be seeing you for a while now, so I’m sure within a few days I’ll start realizing how empty my life had been without Derek Hale in it.” He ended dramatically, bringing the warm flask to his chest, hugging it close it him.

Warm hands enveloped his as Derek took it back. “Well,” he took a casual sip. “My life sure had been darker without your annoying, overly expressive presence in it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but both of them took note of the skip and jump of the human’s heart but it was only the werewolf who knew his heart was responding in time too.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking prompts <3
> 
> Link if you are wondering about any restrictions: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11744586


End file.
